The Punch and Judy Man

Shuffling along, back bent with pain,

Mere walking has become a strain,

Trouser bottoms brushing the ground,

Old shoes are tied, taped and bound.

Deep rugged lines upon his face,

The furrowed brow time's put in place,

Sets out his stall where e'er he can,

The lonely Punch and Judy man.

His hair unkempt - greasy and long,

Though no one cares, he's still headstrong,

Puts on two matinees a day,

Even though the crowds have gone away.

Hands so arthritic from the knocks,

Can't pull the puppets from the box,

A long greatcoat hides skin and bone,

Though you will never hear him moan.

The days of money now long gone,

Kids disappear in summer sun,

Tablets, computers, wi-fi game,

Today's technologies to blame.

Most kids think puppet shows puerile,

Not tempted by the crocodile,

The constable, the ghost, the clown,

Baby and Toby all let down.

And so he sets up on the streets,

A little toddler sucking sweets

is waiting for the twelve noon show,

But mum and dad just want to go.

"Come on Leo, let's not stop here,

We'll get an ice-cream down the pier"

But mother's pleas fell on deaf ears,

Drowned out by little Leo's cheers -

- as the curtain opened and Punch

hit the Croc with a splendid crunch,

The little lad giggled with glee,

Soon others stopped so they could see.

And before long the bench was full,

as Toby bit the constable,

Toddlers roared in fits of laughter,

This was what the kids were after!

Friendly violence - lots of fun,

Out there in the midday sun,

Inside the booth the old man sweat,

This was his best audience yet.

His fingers didn't feel numb at all,

His back was straight, he stood so tall,

His life was once again on track,

The Punch and Judy man was back!